Disclaimer: KILLER INSTINCT is a property belonging to Rare and Microsoft and "The Wolf Man" is a property that belonging to Universal Studios. I do not own any of these characters.

Song used: Hurrian Hymn No. 6 ( watch?v=QpxN2VXPMLc)

Chapter Six: Kan-Ra

"Tyger Tyger, burning bright,
In the forests of the night;

What immortal hand or eye,

Could frame thy fearful symmetry?

In what distant deeps or skies,

Burnt the fire of thine eyes?

On what wings dare he aspire?

What the hand, dare seize the fire?

And what shoulder, & what art,

Could twist the sinews of thy heart?

And when thy heart began to beat,

What dread hand? & what dread feet?

What the hammer? what the chain,

In what furnace was thy brain? 

What the anvil? what dread grasp,

Dare its deadly terrors clasp!

When the stars threw down their spears

And water'd heaven with their tears: 

Did he smile his work to see?

Did he who made the Lamb make thee?

Tyger Tyger burning bright,

In the forests of the night:

What immortal hand or eye,

Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?"

- "The Tyger" by William Blake

"Okay, we're all clear, Baron," Dieter said quietly over his shoulder.

Konrad slowly rose up, stretching his back. It had been an hour since they left the front gates, and for the aristocrat, lying in the back of Dieter's shitty gray Porsche with a thick hot blanket that suffocated him for such a period was torture.

"You need to get a car with more space at the back, Dieter," Konrad said.

"Nah, I love this car," the bodyguard answered.

Konrad shook his head.

"Well, there's no accounting for taste."

Dieter casually flipped him the bird, his eyes focused on the road.

"How far are we from Kan-Ra?" he asked as he glanced around the countryside, making sure his hood, scarf and cloak concealed his features.

"A few minutes."

"This better be worth it," Konrad growled.

* * *

The place where Kan-Ra resided was an old, desolate, dilapidated-looking farmhouse in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by nothing but trees. Parts of the building were faded due to weathering, while other parts looked unfinished in its construction. Windows were either boarded up with plywood or devoid of glass, while parts of the building's inner structure were exposed. Konrad felt uncomfortable looking at the abandoned building. It reminded him of a rotted corpse with its bones partially picked clean.

Taking a nervous step forward, the duo made their way to the entrance of the farmhouse.

Konrad knocked.

"Come in," a voice from inside called.

Opening the door, the duo took one step forward before drawing away quickly, gagging at the foul stench inside.

Taking a couple of deep breaths, they prepared themselves, then stepped into the building, plugging their noses as they glanced around.

Leaves and dead animals littered the floors while flies buzzed all around them, their black bodies bloated little dots that hummed as they fed on the decaying maggot-covered remnants.

Certain sections of the building's walls were missing, exposing some beams here and there.

Ahead of them were an unfinished set of stairs while to the left was what looked to be a filthy kitchen.

To the right of the entrance was what looked to be a dimly lit den with a few chairs and a lit fireplace that crackled, the most complete-looking part of the house.

Sitting in one of the chairs in front of the fireplace, a man sat. Turning slightly in their direction, he gave an ugly grin.

"Ahh, Baron Von Sabrewulf," he said in a deceptively smooth and velvety voice. "I've been expecting you. Come in, both of you, and sit by the fire."

Konrad and Dieter nervously glanced at each other, then took up his offer.

Entering the room, Konrad noticed strange runic symbols on the walls and parts of the floor, painted in something red, the corners of the room lit with a collection of candles.

Next to the walls were various jars filled with a yellow fluid, each containing some specimen.

Konrad saw squirrels, hares, shrews, ravens, owls and various other birds and animals, while other jars had what appeared to be organs.

One jar had something that suspiciously looked like a human hand.

After carefully examining the chairs, they seated themselves down three feet away from him.

Konrad eyed the man next to him.

Although Kan-Ra was a small man, only five foot five and barely over a hundred pounds - one hundred and three or one hundred and five, if Konrad were to give a proper estimate, - with a very frail-looking frame, that only belied the dangerous air about him.

Bald, with white eyes devoid of irises or pupils, his skin had a sickly yellow cadaverous quality that looked gold in the light of the fireplace, covered in wrinkles and looked as if it was either decaying or like it was made from sand.

Though he wore a long black coat that covered much of his body, his arms, legs and shoeless feet remained exposed, all covered in bandages, while relics of some sort gleamed from his waist, including what looked clearly like a horseshoe. Around his neck, Kan-Ra wore a gold necklace with seven or so thick round rubies along with a beaded turquoise necklace that had bits of gold, with six large emeralds that hung from the bottom of thick cylindrical bead pieces.

Holding his hands out to the fire, Konrad stared at the long claw-like nails on the tips of his fingers.

Everything about Kan-Ra repulsed him - his skin, his voice, his smell, which reeked of formaldehyde, sand and decay, but the ugliest feature he had, above all else, was his smile.

Though his dental hygiene was superb, with perfectly shaped and colored teeth that would make any dentist proud, it was the manner in which he smiled that made Konrad's flesh creep. It was by far the ugliest smile he had ever seen on a person, a wide, cruel and horrible-looking thing that made it look as if the skin was pulled taut against the man's skull. Every time he smiled, it looked as if the whole man's face and head would split in half at any given moment.

Had not it been for his condition, Konrad would have done everything in his power to avoid being in the presence of the grinning man.

'What I would give to smack that smile off his ugly face,'  he thought in loathing.

Konrad had first met Kan-Ra at a low-end auction in a downtown section of Munich ages ago, when the latter sneered at him for purchasing a fake relic.

Konrad's first thoughts were to beat the arrogant man's brains out, but he had refrained from doing so for fear of being spotted moving from his wheelchair.

Before he could demand an explanation, the enigmatic figure gave him the address to his home on a piece of paper, introducing himself as a collector and seller of rare antiquities that specialized in the types of things he sought before disappearing.

Perplexed, Konrad initially dismissed him as an insane hoaxer at the time.

When the aristocrat had lost his voice and none of the doctors believed him able to recover, however, desperation forced him to visit the strange figure in this equally strange place. Once he finished drinking down the most revolting-tasting concoction ever created, Konrad had then experienced the most excruciating pain in his throat that he ever felt. His throat burned and ached as he sputtered, and Dieter had been just about ready to gun down the ghoulish figure when Konrad's voice returned. Since then, the two continued to do business with each other.

"So, tell me, Baron," Kan-Ra said, his grin flashing in the light of the fireplace while the rest of his face was concealed in shadow, "why have you come this time? Are you interested in performing another trade? I know I have some pickled rodent brains that could be of use."

"Nein, Kan-Ra," Konrad said, "I came only for information."

Kan-Ra gave him a curious look. "Information?" he repeated. "What subject?"

"What do you know of Spinal?"

He lifted his head at that. "Ahh, 'the Devil's spinal column!'" He said in recognition. "William Accola's little pet project. I haven't heard that name in years."

"You know of it?" Konrad asked.

He nodded. "Indeed," he said. "The creature has had a very long and bloodied history. I had even provided Accola himself with some materials for his research."

Konrad blinked in surprise. "You knew Accola?!" He exclaimed. "That's impossible."

Kan-Ra gave him an amused look, but didn't respond.

"How old are you?" Konrad asked curiously.

The pale eyed man grinned, then gave a dark chuckle.

"What can you tell me about it?" Konrad pressed.

"What will you give in exchange?" he said, his Cheshire grin growing. "I don't offer my services for free."

Reaching into the pocket of his cloak, Konrad pulled out a small bag and tossed it to him.

Catching it with one hand, Kan-Ra lowered it down into view as he opened it up. One of the peculiarities about dealing with Kan-Ra, at least in Konrad's experience, was that the man treated legal tender with an open level of disdain.

In fact, when offered vast sums of money for his expertise or relics, sums that would have made Jurgen scream in outrage, Kan-Ra would pointedly refuse all offers and turn him away.

However, he did display a peculiar fondness for currency of a much older type, usually gold coins from antiquity, but often the only things that interested Kan-Ra were gems, even those that were considered unremarkable or inexpensive. Konrad suspected that the man was daft, but he never voiced his opinion out loud in his presence.

Rolling the gems into the palm of his hand, Kan-Ra examined them, picking them up piece by piece.

"You approve?" Konrad asked.

He received his answer in the form of a grin.

"How can I help you?" came the reply.

"What can you tell me of Spinal and the mask of Ancients?"

The pale-eyed man leaned back in his chair, looking almost like he was closing his eyes.

"The creature has gone by many names throughout the centuries," he said. "Some of them are probably already familiar to you."

"Loki?"

The corner of his mouth lifted.

"That's one," he said.

"The auction that I bought this from said that the mask possesses features that commemorated some of the Mesopotamian gods and goddesses. Innana, Suen, Enki the god of magic. Ereshkigal the goddess of the underworld, her fearsome husband Nergal."

Kan-Ra shook his head. "I can't say with much certainty, but it is my belief that those features were added on at a later period. Then again, I haven't examined the mask," he said. "I can't tell you every aspect of the mask's history due to the fact that a lot of it remains unknown, but what I do know with certainty was that it had changed hands numerous times throughout the ages, wielded across the globe. Pirates, bandits, mercenaries, warlords, emperors...kings..."

He paused.

"Amongst those had been Neriglissar of Babylon, who used Spinal to conquer the armies of King Appuasu as well as seize the royal cities of Ura and Kirsi, burning everything and everyone to the ground."

"Jesus," Dieter muttered.

Kan-Ra smirked. He had a distant look in his eye, as if somehow remembering or reliving the experience.

"With it, he also destroyed the city of Pitusu, and from the pass of Sallune to the border of Lydia, fires were started."

"You should learn to hide the elation in your voice," Konrad muttered.

The man scoffed. "Elation? Hardly," he said. "The Greeks, Persians, and Romans had also used it extensively in their wars. I heard rumors that supposedly Alexander the Great himself had the mask at one point until it was stolen in the middle of the night. In 79 BC, some of the Romans became so fearful of the creature that they chucked him and the mask into a volcano in order to destroy them both."

"Obviously a false report," Konrad said.

"I wouldn't say so," he said. "The volcano that the creature had been tossed into was Mount Vesuvius."

Konrad's brows furrowed. "Mount Vesuv-?!" he said. "Are you saying that Spinal was responsible for the destruction of Pompeii?!"

Kan-Ra didn't say anything. He only gave a disgusting smile before continuing with his accounts.

"The relic eventually found its way among the Germanic peoples, one of the most notable users being, albeit very briefly, Attila the Hun, before the artifact was stolen again. The Vikings had also laid claim to the mask, using him for much of their conquests. At least, before the Crusaders got hold of the relic. They too used it in some of their battles, but a lot of effort was made to destroy it. It's made its way through China, India, Japan, the Americas...I don't think there's a single continent or piece of land that hadn't been stepped on by Spinal."

Konrad looked at him eagerly. "How do we destroy it?"

Kan-Ra took a long time answering.

"As far as I know," he said slowly, "I don't think a way exists. At least, not yet. Many have tried crushing it, burning it, stabbing it, trampling it underfoot or by carriage, throwing it to the bottom of the sea..."

He shook his head. "For all intents and purposes, both the mask and the creature it controls are completely indestructible," he said.

Konrad lowered his head.

Damn.

"Not what you were hoping to hear, I see," Kan-Ra said before giving another one of those hideous smiles. "If you would like, I could take the mask for myself, that way you wouldn't have to be concerned about carrying the burden."

Alarms were blaring off loudly in the aristocrat's head the moment the man said that.

"Nein, thank you," Konrad replied. "That will be all."

"Are you sure?" Kan-Ra asked in a tone that smacked of insincere concern to the aristocrat. "You already have troubles of your own. Are you sure that you'd be up to the task?"

"I'll manage," Konrad retorted.

Kan-Ra gave a shrug. "As you wish," he replied. "See yourselves out."

Konrad nodded to Dieter, then got up. As they left the room, Konrad looked over his shoulder to see Kan-Ra leaning down to his left, picking up an old lyre from the floor beside his chair. Once he straightened himself back up, the pale-eyed man brushed his long nails against its strings, then started to play a song.* It was an oddly hollow and poignant tune that made the aristocrat pause in his steps.

https://youtu.be/QpxN2VXPMLc

Turning back to face the door, Konrad left the strange man as he stared ahead into the fireplace, lost in apparent recollection, the smile gone.

* * *

"So, what do you make of what he says?" Dieter asked as he drove the car.

Konrad shook his head in the backseat. "One never knows with that man," he replied. "What about you?"

Dieter raised his chin up thoughtfully. "If what he says is true," he said slowly, "then we're not getting rid of this thing anytime soon."

"That had crossed my mind too, unfortunately."

"So," Dieter said, "why not make the best of it?"

Konrad gave him a quizzical look. "'Make the best of it?'" he repeated. "Dieter, this isn't some flat tire or a misplaced order."

"What I mean, Baron," Dieter said, "is why not use today's technology to study it?"

The Baron quietly digested the words, then gave a slow nod.

"That actually is a good idea."

"Of course it is! The way I see it, the little bastard is going to cost you money, so, why not use this as an opportunity to make money back?"

"And what, Dieter, sort of opportunity are you talking about?" Konrad asked. "How could I possibly make money off of him?"

"Oh come on! Do you know how many would pay through the nose to have an indestructible soldier under their control?"

"I'll pretend that I didn't hear you say that."

"Baron," Dieter said in exasperation, "the creature could be of tremendous militaristic value!"

"I am NOT going to have this thing employed in wars, Dieter," Konrad said firmly.

"Then why not use it for one of your private security companies?"

"Dieter, the creature is a walking liability. It is far too volatile and bloodthirsty to be used. I am NOT going to have a repeat of what happened last night. Even more, having it out in the open would only bring to light the horrible fact that what happened at the tournament was real."

"Okay, fine," the bodyguard reluctantly conceded. "Then why not study the thing that's keeping him together and find a way to, I don't know, apply those forces to the whole body rather than just the bones?"

"What, like a fountain of youth?" Konrad said doubtfully.

"Yeah. People have been searching for immortality since forever, Baron. Who wouldn't want to have eternal life? You could have the R and D guys examine the creature, make a serum and boom, money out the wazoo."

"Interesting proposal. I can see it now - 'Introducing "Regen!" by Ultratech! WARNING, side-effects may include hair loss, skin loss, insanity, a bloody skeleton and an inclination toward committing extreme violence.' Ja, Dieter, the Board of Directors would LOVE to have a product like that on their shelves!" Konrad snapped. "No chances of any lawsuits there!"

Dieter shrugged. "Just a suggestion," he replied.

"Any other bright ideas?"

The bodyguard lifted his head, pondering.

"What about..." he said slowly, "...studying its energy?"

"And what do you mean by that?"

"Well, we know that the thing emits some form of energy as evidenced by those projectiles and those giant arms," Dieter reasoned aloud, "so, why not study those aspects and find a way to, I don't know, harvest said-energy from it into a potentially viable fuel resource?"

Konrad frowned. "It's an interesting thought, Dieter," he said, "but there's a problem - that would require one to antagonize the creature into using its abilities."

"You wouldn't have to get it to attack, Baron," Dieter said. "Just study its method of transport. In all likelihood both the projectiles and its ability to teleport itself draw from the same repository. In theory, anyway."

Konrad placed his chin in his hand in thought. It's possible that could work.

"Plus," Dieter continued, "that particular ability in itself has potential to be an enormous money maker. Militaries would love to have something like that!"

Konrad rolled his eyes.

"Oh for God's sake, not this again!" he grumbled.

"No, hear me out!" Dieter protested. "A soldier that can phase in and out of the field and gather intel undetected, thereby reducing the costs of using aircraft carriers for secret HALO jumps or extraction? That could be something that can benefit militaries and police officers everywhere."

"Dieter," Konrad said pointedly, "what you're suggesting is illegal and immoral. That would require human experimentation, and I am NOT going to let some poor soldier be subjected to a process that may turn him inside out!"

"We know that it's possible for a person to survive the process, Baron," Dieter countered. "After all, you yourself underwent the experience and came back intact."

The aristocrat exhaled. "True," he said, "but still, I object to the idea of someone being experimented on in this manner."

Dieter gave a wry grin. "Who said anything about human experimentation, Baron?" 

"And what do you mean by that?" Konrad demanded.

"Your machines, Baron," Dieter explained. "Surely a combat android that can teleport onsite behind enemy lines hasn't crossed your mind?"

Konrad opened his mouth to berate the bodyguard, but stopped, lowering his chin contemplatively.

"Ja," he said aloud, nodding. "Ja, you're right, Dieter! You actually have some great ideas!"

The bodyguard smirked.

"I have my moments," he said.

"And you should have those more often!" Konrad said.

The two were quiet as Dieter continued to drive.

"Still doesn't account for your tastes in art and cars, though," he added.

"HA!" Dieter laughed as he leaned back with a wide amused smile.

The two chuckled amongst themselves, then fell back into silence.

"Do you think the creature could be related to our friend in your walk-in freezer? The, uh...whatcha call it,...Homo Glacius?" Dieter asked.

Konrad frowned. Leaning back in his seat, pondering quietly, he looked back to the bodyguard.

"Doubtful. By the way, your Latin is shit, Dieter," he said. "It's Homo Glacies."

"Meh, whatever."

The aristocrat shook his head. "Take my advice, mein freund," he said, "never take up a job as an instructor in Latin."

"Duly noted."

* * *

Journalists clustered in front of the gates to the Sabrewulf estate. As the Porsche came toward the entrance, they rushed to the vehicle like locusts, bombarding Dieter with a plethora of questions.

"Can you tell us anything about the show last night?"

"Do you know if Ultratech plans on restoring the building?"

"Were you aware of what was going on behind the scenes?"

"Will the show go on?"

"Have you heard from the Baron?"

"Can you give a comment?"

"Yeah. Fuck off!" Dieter said irritably. "Joe, get these fuckers outta the way, will ya?"

As guards tried moving the reporters away from the car, forming a blockade, the gates opened, allowing the vehicle to slip through.

* * *

The Porsche parked inside the garage. Stepping out from the vehicle, the duo were greeted by Jurgen with wheelchair prepared.

"Welcome back, Herr Baron," Jurgen said as the aristocrat settled into the wheelchair, Dieter closing the car door behind him. "Was your visit worthwhile?"

"It was...illuminating," Konrad answered.

"Did he have the answers you were looking for?"

"Far and between," the aristocrat replied. "Did I get any calls while I was away?"

"Many, including an urgent message from Mr. Kellog saying that he and the Board of Directors would like to speak with you immediately."

Shit.

"I'll take that call."

"Not so fast, Herr Baron," Jurgen said in a stiff tone, grabbing the wheelchair with one hand.

Glancing up at him, Konrad saw the butler's mouth tense and eyes narrowed.

"What's wrong?" Konrad asked.

"Have either of you forgotten about something?"

The aristocrat gave him a puzzled look. "Like what?"

"Ohh, I don't know," Jurgen said, "a little detail that seemed to slip one's mind, like, say, whether one had paid the bill today, whether they forgot something at work, or, perhaps, the foul-mouthed person tied up in the toolshed?"

Konrad's frame seized up the moment the servant mentioned that in an icy tone.

"Oh, would you look at the time!" Dieter exclaimed suddenly, turning back to the car. "I just remembered that I had to be somewhere."

"Don't you dare leave!" Jurgen said with a glare, fixing the bodyguard still. "Did either of you think that you'd sneak something like this past me?"

Both men remained silent as the servant scrutinized them, his arms folded behind his back.

"Who is he?" he demanded.

Dieter cleared his throat. "He's...uh...well.."

"Spill it out, man."

The bodyguard sighed. "His name is Ben Ferris, an ex-Special Forces Lieutenant," he said. "He's, uh, an associate of mine, a...specialist."

"A "specialist"," Jurgen repeated, nodding, his hands behind his back. "And by specialist you mean...?"

"He's, ah, a problem-solver."

"A problem-solver. And what sort of "problems" are we talking about? I gather that this Mr. Ferris isn't a lawyer now, is he?"

"No."

"If I were to Google his name, will I find anything?"

"He likes to keep his tracks clean."

"I see," Jurgen said evenly, circling around the duo. "So, our Mr. Ferris is a specialist problem-solver with a shady background."

"It was my fault, Jurgen," Dieter explained.

"Of course it is!" Jurgen snapped as he got into the bodyguard's face. "You are an idiot, Dieter! A bloody fucking idiot!"

The bodyguard flinched under the man's gaze and sharp tone.

"Look," Dieter said, staring down, "I thought that I could help the Baron get what he wanted and so I turned to Ben for help in getting certain items."

The servant was deathly still. "What items?" he demanded. "WHAT ITEMS?!"

Dieter inhaled, then sighed. "A Tibetan statue and a scroll," he said. "The Baron said that supposedly they were integral to self-healing. Ben got a little rough with a group of Tiger cultists or...monks."

"So your friend was responsible for that incident in Tibet," Jurgen said slowly. "And let me guess, he found out who you worked for and was blackmailing you."

"No, I swear it wasn't like that!" Dieter protested. "I can explain."

"I pray that you don't!" Jurgen snapped. "I don't want to be an accessory, nor do I want Herr Baron to be one either. Because of your recklessness and stupidity you've not only put those monks into that hospital, but you've also put this house in jeopardy as well! And you've had the gall to bring that thug here!"

"Hey! That wasn't my idea!" The bodyguard snapped back, but gave a look of alarm once the words left his mouth.

The servant stared at him, then looked over at Konrad.

"It's true," Konrad admitted quietly. "Dieter was just following orders." He looked down. "We had just finished doing business with Mr. Ferris and were making our way back to the limo," he recounted. "Ferris took offense to what Dieter had said and so decided to pursue and take it out on him. The man's a maniac. He'd have killed him, Jurgen. I tried to intervene, but....I ended up getting the crap beaten out of me instead."

"That explains the bruises on both of you. Why bring him here?"

"I panicked," Konrad said. "He saw my face, Jurgen."

"Even so, I doubt anyone would have believed the ravings of some bruised-up thug about a werewolf."

"He said that he used to work for the CIA. Plus, even though I used a fake name, I believe that he knew who I was."

That made the servant pause.

"And what makes you so certain about that?"

"He didn't say anything outright, just hinted," Konrad said.

Jurgen frowned, shaking his head.

"Jurgen, I'm sorry, mein freund."

The servant remained silent.

"Jurgen, please say something."

"And what is it that you want me to say?" he demanded. "Do you expect a simple sorry to excuse everything?"

"Nein, I don't," Konrad said. "But I need your help."

"And how do you expect me to do that?!" he retorted. "I can't just wiggle my nose and make your little cockup go away now, can I?!"

"It's still salvageable," Dieter said, drawing Jurgen's attention.

"What do you mean?

"Look, I got the Baron into this mess. I can sort it out."

"You better," Jurgen said in a threatening voice.

"Where is Ben now?"

"I took him into one of the guest rooms."

"You what?!"

"It was better than just leaving him out there where he could either freeze to death or have some guard or reporter stumble upon him!" Jurgen snapped.

The bodyguard's eye twitched.

"I'll get him out of here," he replied.

"One last thing, Dieter," the servant said, stepping toward Dieter until he stopped directly in front of him, his tone low and threatening. "If you EVER pull a stunt like this again, don't expect to come back. You will be out of here so fast that your head will spin. And I promise you, regardless of your friendship with Herr Konrad, I'll personally make sure that you are charged and sent to the shittiest cell in the shittiest prison possible. Do you understand?"

Dieter's jaw was clenched shut, his face reddening with repressed anger.

"DO YOU UNDERSTAND?!"

"Yes, Jurgen," Dieter said. "You made it perfectly clear."

"Good. Now get out of my sight."

Whipping round to the garage exit, the bodyguard marched up the ramp and angrily flung it open before disappearing from view.

"I'm sorry, Jurgen," Konrad said.

Jurgen shook his head, his back facing him.

"I don't know what to do with you, Herr Baron," he said. "You are worse than a child. At least with Dieter he can be counted on to do something stupid, but you! It's like you secretly want to be discovered."

Konrad didn't reply. Jurgen turned around to face him.

"Do you?"

He shrugged. "I suppose on a certain level that's what I want," he said. "Better than waiting around, counting the days that go by, wondering when I could go outside...if I'll ever get the chance to go outside. Sometimes I get stir-crazy, like I'm being suffocated in this damn castle, in this damn wheelchair! So many eyes keeping people out, yet those same eyes keep me in, forcing me to do nothing but think, wondering and worrying about whether someone just happened to catch a glimpse of me or not. Wondering about whether or not I'm still a man or if I'm less than a man now. Wondering...if I am any closer to being cured."

He gave a heavy sigh of longing.

"Do you know how long it's been since I've gone out with a woman, Jurgen?" he asked rhetorically. "I used to wear Giorgio Armani shirts, shoes and suits, clothes of the best quality, but now because of this fucking thing that I have I've been denied that! I can't put a shirt, shoe or suit on without ripping it to hell because my neck and feet have become too thick! The last woman I dated and kissed was when I was a teenager! There are so many things I wanted to do, but I'm almost fifty years old and it seems like a lifetime has passed by without me knowing it. Where has it all gone?"

"If you are unhappy living like this, Herr Baron," Jurgen said quietly, "then why not let the world in on your secret?"

Konrad scowled. "Jurgen, please."

"Nein, really. Deformity isn't anything new, Herr Baron. There are people born with Siamese twins, malformed hands, flippers for hands, scaly skin-"

"Ja, I'm quite aware of that, thank you very much!"

"Herr Baron, there are people out there born with less than you do," the servant said. "People who have had it so much worse."

"I know that, Jurgen!" Konrad snapped.

"Then why not tell the world, get them on your side?"

"And how do you propose that? What, you expect me to go on Oprah and just show everyone that I have the single worst case of hypertrichosis the world has ever seen?! That my legs are fucked up?! That I'm fucking blue?! I have a tail, Jurgen, a fucking tail! How many have to hold up their tail and shave their ass just so that they can properly take a shit?! You expect me to go out there and announce that I am a FREAK?!"

Shouting that last part, he slammed his right fist down angrily on the wheelchair's armrest, breaking it, causing part of it to dangle awkwardly from his chair.

"How is my announcing that I'm a werewolf going to protect my position at the company?! My rights to property?! To marriage?! My rights to vote and have children?! The law doesn't recognize the rights of monsters, Jurgen! I'll lose everything!"

"Herr Baron, if you were to hold a press conference and reveal your condition to the world, you could use that to your advantage and gain public sympathy, perhaps even establish a legal precedent! For all we know, there may be others out there with your condition, and by making your files accessible to the rest of the Medical Community, the better the chances of finding a cure!"

"There aren't any others, Jurgen!" Konrad said through clenched teeth. "I'm the only one there is. I searched every part of the internet and the world, and I haven't found a God. Damn. Thing."

"You don't know that for certain."

Konrad snarled. "Even if hypothetically there are others like me, why haven't they come out?"

"Because they're just as afraid as you are," Jurgen countered.

"And you expect me to do so! To become some sort of spokesperson for the Wolf men and women of the world?!" Konrad muttered. "Ja, that's precisely what I want to be known for! Forgive me if I'm not as altruistic and as self-sacrificial as you suggest, Jurgen, but I still have some self-respect! I don't need the humiliation of being stared at, poked and prodded by the public and doctors everywhere!"

"Self-respect! Is that what all this is?! Hiding in the shadows, whining like a baby, and spending vast amounts of money on trinkets under constant threat of going to prison?! Is that your idea of 'self-respect' and not wanting to be humiliated?!"

Konrad violently yanked the broken piece of the armrest that dangled from his wheelchair and flung it hard at Jurgen, who barely had time to duck down as it slammed against the wall and clattered to the floor.

Konrad's hand trembled furiously as he stared angrily at Jurgen. Raising himself back up and turning around toward the ramp, the servant faced the door, his back facing his employer.

"You need to call Mr. Kellog," Jurgen said in an even voice, not bothering to look at him. "We'll talk about this later."

As Jurgen departed, Konrad remained in the garage, staring dejectedly to the floor, his form still.

* * *

Later, Konrad worked quietly on his laptop in the den at a desk, the fireplace burning behind him. He didn't want to have the meeting in his office, not with ARIA listening in. Once he made certain that everything was in proper working order, he activated the vid-screen on his laptop, watching as David and the other Board members appeared onscreen.

"Ah, there you are! Guten Tag, everyone!" He greeted.

"Ah! Mr. Chairman," David responded neutrally. "Glad to hear from you. We have much to discuss."

Dread settled itself onto Konrad's shoulders as he waited to be blasted for his incompetence and gross mishandling of the situation.

Dread turned into surprise as David started to let out a hearty chuckle.

"Well done on last night's show, Mr. Chairman!" He approved.

Konrad blinked. "What?" 

David boisterously laughed along with others at his response.

"Do you hear the earnestness and confusion in his voice?" he said through his chuckles, his laughter infectious.

Soon everyone onscreen were laughing.

"I-I knew that you were resourceful and talented, Mr. Chairman," David said as he wiped his eyes, "but last night's program really showed you pulling out all the stops. People absolutely loved it!"

"They did?" Konrad asked, taken aback.

"Oh yes," David said. "The ratings for that episode were through the roof! As of this moment it's the number one video on YouTube."

Konrad frowned. Fucking YouTube.

"The special effects that you employed were remarkable. The creatures were so lifelike. Who did the special effects?"

Konrad stared awkwardly at the screen.

"Ah, well, it was, uh..."

"Go ahead, Mr. Chairman," David said patiently.

"The creatures were...they were..." he stammered, "done by an independent special effects crew."

"Really?" David said interestedly. "What are they called?"

"They're new kids on the block," Konrad lied. "Nobody would have heard of them. They did some low budget horror movie stuff."

"I hope they weren't expensive."

"They weren't," Konrad assured.

"Well, kudos to them," David said. "They did an outstanding job. People especially loved the werewolf."

The aristocrat blinked. "Really?"

"Absolutely. There were, however, a few issues."

Konrad narrowed his eyes. "What issues?"

"Some of the viewers were complaining about the lack of realism in the werewolf's movements and the way it was fighting. A werewolf is supposed to bite and howl."

"So I understand," Konrad muttered.

"Also," David continued, "they didn't really know what to call it, so they had no way of identifying it."

"It has a name," Konrad said.

"Really? What is it?"

The aristocrat inhaled through his nostrils, then sighed. "Sabrewulf..."

"Sabrewulf!" David burst out laughing, the whole room and screen joining in with him.

Konrad remained still, then faked a few chuckles.

David wiped the tears away from his eyes as everyone settled down.

"Oh my God," he said between breaths. "Oh, that is funny!"

"I'm glad you are amused, David," Konrad lied.

"I should have known that you'd do something like that!"

"Well," Konrad said, "you know me. I'm a regular jokester, as you say."

"The audience will love it!" he said, chuckling. "Plus it fits!"

Konrad laughed. "Ja! Ja, it does!"

As the laughter died down, David took a moment to recover.

"Ahh. Where was I?" he asked.

"You were talking about other issues," Konrad replied.

"Ah yes. Other issues," David repeated. "I have to admit the graphic content was rather unnecessary with the skeleton transformation, plus we've been getting letters from upset parents about that nudist that ruined the pre-game show."

The aristocrat gaped at the screen. "You're serious?" 

"Oh yes," David said. "That was absolutely dreadful. You really ought to increase security to keep that sort of thing from happening again."

"Well," Konrad said, "I would, but given that the building is now destroyed, thanks to that earthquake, that will have to take a backseat for now."

"Indeed," David nodded. "That was unfortunate business, although thankfully no one got hurt. All of the damages should be covered by our insurance company, though, including the Theseus androids you rigged. Terrible shame about Eagle's manager."

Konrad nodded. "Ja."

"Speaking of which, have you heard from Eagle?"

"Oh ja," Konrad lied. "He said that he's going on holiday someplace. Didn't tell me where, exactly."

"Oh good."

"Why do you ask?"

"Well it's silly really. People have been commenting on his absence from the news and social media lately and were growing concerned, even going so far as to believe that what happened last night was actually real!" David said the last part with a laugh. "But that's very reassuring. If you could get in touch with him and abate these fears, it would be much appreciated."

The aristocrat looked darkly at the screen, his mouth drawn in a tight grim line.

"I'll try," he said. "So I take it you and the others would like to cancel the show?"

"On the contrary, Mr. Chairman. After much discussion, the Board and I actually feel that more could be gained with this shift in the program's focus."

"You do?" Konrad said in surprise.

"Absolutely. Since monsters are popular with the mainstream, especially with teenagers and children, there's plenty of potential licensing and merchandising opportunities available, so we're all in favor of your renewal of the copyright. Of course, the decision to continue with this is yours, Mr. Chairman," David said. "What say you?"

He stared at the screen in contemplation.

"I can't imagine that the program would continue to have high ratings with just two monsters," he replied.

"Well, maybe mix it up a bit," David said. "Have someone fight the skeleton, someone else the werewolf, then each other. Once that's finished, bring in a new monster into the fold."

"You want more monsters?" Konrad said.

"But of course. Diversification is one of the keys to success, Mr. Chairman, and as you have pointed out, there's only so much you can do with only two characters. Besides, it will keep the show fresh and the audiences on their toes in anticipation. They'll love it!" David explained.

Konrad winced. Him and his big fat mouth.

"Will it be a problem?"

Konrad thought about it.

"Nein, it won't," he answered. "However, if we're to renew the copyright, the tournament will need to......undergo some revisions, especially in its format."

"Fair enough. What do you have in mind?"

* * *

"Larry!"

"Gwen, I'm going away."

"Away? But why?"

"I've got to go. I can't stay here any longer."

"Let me go with you. I'll fetch a few things and be back in a minute."

"No, no. I'm going alone."

"But I can help you!"

"You wouldn't want to run away with a murderer, would you?"

"Larry, you're not. You know you're not."

"I killed Bela. I killed Richardson. If I stay around here much longer, you can't tell who's going to be next!"

The moment he said that, he looked at her in horrible realization, his eyes glassy and frightened. "Wait... It might even..."

"Please! I've still got the charm you gave me, remember?" Gwen said as she showed him the charm around her neck.

"Yeah, yeah, I know, but I'm afraid," he said as he took her hand, then paused, staring down into the palm as a pentagram appeared, marking her as his next victim.

"Larry! What is it?"

"Your hand," he said in horror.

"I can't see anything."

"Mr. Talbot!" a man said in shock as he came down the stairs, still wearing his robe.

"Father! I'm going with Larry."

"No, it's no use!" Larry cried as he ran out of the door, fleeing as fast he could from her.

"Amen to that," Konrad said as he raised his glass of wine to Lon Chaney, taking a long gulp before refilling it. Leaning back against the wall on his bed, his cloak discarded, he continued watching "The Wolf Man" until he heard a knock.

"Who is it?"

"It's Lawrence, Herr Baron," the voice said from the other side of the door.

"Come in," he said.

Lawrence stepped into the room as the Baron paused the movie and put his glass onto a nearby drawer.

"Does Jurgen need something?" Konrad asked.

The bodyguard shook his head. "No, Herr Baron, just me," Lawrence said nervously.

"What is it?"

Lawrence gave him an uncomfortable look. "I would like to resign."

Konrad blinked. "Have I been a terrible employer?" he asked.

"No, Herr Baron!" Lawrence affirmed, shaking his head. "Not at all. I like working for you, and I can't think of many that I'd rather serve."

"What brought on this change?"

The bodyguard sighed. "I know this might come off as something of a shock, Herr Baron," Lawrence said slowly, "but these past few hours have given me much to think about. I'm terrified."

Konrad slowly nodded. "You and me both," he admitted. "I'd say there would be something wrong with you if you had said otherwise."

Lawrence gave a small laugh, then cast his eyes down.

"I hate the idea of letting you down, sir, of abandoning my duty to serve you-"

"You haven't," Konrad affirmed. "I can't think of many I'd rather have by my side." He sighed. "But," he continued, "given the circumstances around here lately, perhaps it's not the best place for you."

Lawrence looked like he was trying everything he could to keep it all in. "I'm really sorry, Herr Baron."

"Don't be," Konrad said as he put an assuring hand on his shoulder, then a strong pat. "You deserve better."

He looked up at the Baron. "Do you believe in God, sir? Heaven, Hell, that sort of thing?" he asked with uncertainty.

Konrad shook his head. "I don't know what to believe on that front, Lawrence," he said. "Have you thought about what you're going to do afterwards?"

The bodyguard nodded. "Ja, I was thinking of becoming a priest." 

The aristocrat raised a brow.

Lawrence laughed. "I know, it's not the sort of thing that I'd say or consider, but-"

"I understand," Konrad said as he pulled his hand away. "You will continue to receive payment for the remainder of your services."

The bodyguard nodded. "Thank you, Herr Baron."

Konrad held out his clawed hand.

Lawrence gave a small smile, then reached out, taking it into his own and gave a firm shake.

"Auf Wiedersehen, mein freund."

The bodyguard opened his mouth to say something, but stopped. Letting go, he turned around and headed to the door, then gave one final glance to the Baron.

"I'll pray for you, Herr Baron."

As he disappeared from view, Konrad went back to the drawer and picked up his glass, then played the movie. Swearing aloud, he rewound it, waited a minute or two, then played it again.

"The way you walk is thorny, through no fault of your own. But as the rain enters the soil, the river enters the sea, so tears run to a predestined end. Find peace for a moment, my son."